A Sunset's Grandeur
by KohakuWolf
Summary: When history repeats itself and wars of old begin anew the Hero of Time, with the help of a certain Twilight Princess, must battle to save his past, her present, and their future.  ON HIATUS; IN REVISION
1. Legendary War

**Author's Note: This story is set about two months or so after the events of Twilight Princess. It includes many references to Ocarina of Time and that game's characters and villains, as well as events that are said to have taken place before that game. Obvious spoilers are included for both games, so be warned. The story revolves around Link and Midna, and the views expressed of their relationship are entirely my own. With that in mind, please enjoy.**

**Disclaimer- I do not own anything associated with or pertaining to the Legend of Zelda series. **

**Chapter 1: Legendary War**

The midnight blackness was overshadowed in crimson colored smoke so rich and bright that it seemed as though the sky itself had taken on a new shade of color. Shocking flares of angry explosions shot through the night, leaving a carnival of embers dancing in their fiery footsteps. The once beautiful and fertile land was now torn and rugged, every healthy spot of earth uprooted by the sharp spikes of the soldiers' boots.

They marched across the fields of Hyrule, clad in lightweight steel armor that glinted with the light reflected form the surge of blazing flames. They strode in no organized formation or strategic alignment; any thought-out plans for battle had long since been abandoned. Rather, the few soldiers who remained valiant and loyal to their people continued to protect the innocent villagers, while the rest ran rampant and ruthlessly attacked anyone or anything that crossed their path.

The majority of the once respectable men had become savage warriors, crazed from the endless ocean of darkness that was penetrated only by streaming lakes of glossy red flame. All around, they bellowed at the top of their lungs and dueled with monsters, foes, and their own comrades with an equally powerful lust for blood. The metallic clashing of blades rang out in the air, coupled with the whistle of a shower of arrows cascading through the smoldering clouds of heavy dark smoke. These noises erupted across the land and joined with the synchronized screams of terror that were constantly present, forming a sort of symphony of the agonizing clamor of war.

Different races and species all were present amidst the bloodthirsty banquet of the war, eager to bring about the demise of those that opposed their people. The warrior women called Gerudos sprang forth from their position of lurking behind a thick cloud of blossoming scarlet smoke, and issued their fierce battle cries, their screeches echoing throughout the plain. They were accustomed to environments that impaired the senses due to having been raised in a desert wasteland, and so they were able to see what the other soldiers could not. They dashed into the heart of the battle, nimbly dodging the strokes of weapons with more agility than the felines they resembled with their brilliant golden eyes and slanted pupils. Their lustrous ruby red hair streaked behind them as they thrust out the bronze spears they wielded against the battle-mad soldiers.

Near the once crisp blue and dazzling river that snaked through the land, though it was now murky and stained with an abundance of salty blood, another group fought comemorably. The Zoras sliced at the massive bodies of their enemies, the Gorons, with their razor-sharp fins. Using their surprising strength, they flung the rock people headlong into the water, where their bulk pulled them from the smothering, polluted air of the surface to the bottom of the river and to their watery graves. In retaliation, the Gorons seized the slick, scaly bodies of those Zoras unfortunate enough to be caught in their grasp, and violently tore them to pieces. Their vibrant silver blood splattered in puddles on the soiled ground.

The frenzy of war craft had strewn the bodies of those slain all around like rag dolls crushed in the hands of the furious deities of war.

All this, all the madness and fighting and brutality was reflected in the young woman's large, cool eyes that glowed as tantalizingly blue as the Zora's River had not too long ago. She looked on silently at the gruesome scene before her, a once peaceful country now laden with misery and bloodshed. Her tender feet glided across the dampened dirt, sticky with the remains of fallen warriors. Her luminous, creamy pink skin shimmered through the charred and tarnished armor and blackened decay as she continued to flow swiftly through the numerous warring tribes, battered bodies falling all around her. Despite this, her brave spirit remained unplagued by fear.

To her, all of the men fighting had the same features. They all shared one face. A sallow face, gaunt with an overpowering hunger to kill. A face that had been drained of all human emotions, one in which mercy had become as far out of reach as the cosmos. The men who possessed this face were no more than empty shells, their limbs attached to strings being manipulated by the dark intent that had taken over Hyrule. As the woman continued to saunter forward, her hand instinctively slid down to her torso to feel the spot where she had been recklessly stabbed only minutes before. She winced only slightly as she felt just how heavy the flow of blood truly was as the warm liquid gushed between her trembling fingers.

She was running out of time.

The small warm bundle she was clutching to her chest began to wrestle with its blanket and whimper.

"Hush, my dearest," the woman cooed in a gentle, velvety voice. Her moon-colored hair, once as silky as a horse's mane and soft as a rose petal billowed around her, crusted with ash and entwined with scum and mud. Not too far in the distance, she could just barely make out the silhouette of a large tree, and she could almost see the faint traces of a color now lacking from the rest of the landscape- green.

"Not long now," she whispered, panting, her loss of blood making her lush voice raspy and her keen eyesight hazy and blurry. "Did you hear that, my sweet?" she asked softly with a staggering breath, somewhere finding the strength in her slight figure to press onward, summoning every ounce of courage within to urge her weakened body to keep moving. "We're almost to Kokiri forest."

Her gem-like eyes that resembled the clearest blue skies looked like goblets of sparkling water as they were filled to the brim with tears. Without noticing, she had stopped running, and now paused to lift the top of the thick blanket aside just enough to reveal the flushed ivory skin on the face of the little baby.

His pair of long light eyelashes were joined together in sleep. She could see the beginnings of fair blond tufts of hair sprouting out from his tiny head, spilling over the colorful embroidery of the silken gown she had donned him in. He had a few pale freckles sprinkled across the bridge of his button nose, and apple shaped and colored dimples set upon his cheeks. The woman bit back a sad smile at the small bit of purity left among the butchery surrounding them. Fueled with a new determination, she dwarfed the baby further into her arms and nestled his small body in the crook of her neck as she began to run nearly blindly toward the forest, the last hope for her son.

"We're almost there," she repeated, pressing her soft yet now alarmingly cold lips to the smooth forehead of the infant. "You're almost safe… my precious Link."

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Dazzling azure eyes snapped open, only to be greeted with the sight of dewy grass and warm tendrils of light from the newly dawned sun. With a dream that realistic, Link half expected to open his eyes to behold the atrocities of war and utter pandemonium not even three feet away, just as it had been before he woke up. He hoisted himself upright, flexed out his limbs in a sleepy stretch and yawned. It had been quite a long time since he had dreamt of anyone.

At least, dreamt of anyone other than Midna, that is.

It was usually impossible to shake her face form his mind, whether it was either the small, disproportionate and child-like face as the tiny imp he had grown to care for and think of a precious friend, or the gorgeous face of a bewitchingly beautiful woman that Link had only been graced enough to see for a short period of time. Both of her faces were usually responsible for taking his dreams captive, emphasizing just how much he missed her and making him ache for her company even more. But her persistent haunting seemed to have yielded just this once.

Link sighed, allowing his gaze to soak up the delicate pastel hues in the horizon as he mused over what on earth could have sparked such a dream. Maybe it was just because he had drifted into his slumber outside, snuggled in the soft damp grass by Ordon Spring. He didn't usually sleep outdoors, and most certainly not all the way until morning. So perhaps sleeping out on the cold, wet ground had made him dream of warm fire, and his mind had crafted a story to accompany it.

As much as Link's mind seemed to be begging him to accept that logical possibility, he just couldn't seem to quite shake that lurking feeling, the one that was settled in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't be sure, but it was almost like the sharp pang that was dealt repeatedly to his gut was trying to tell him that this nightmare was far more important than he desperately wanted it to be. And even though he prayed with all the might left in his weary, fractured heart that it was just a dream, deep down he knew that his ominous feeling of foreboding was one that should not, and could not, be ignored. It felt as though a barrage of rampaging Ordonian goats were scampering around inside of him, colliding with his stomach in a frantic attempt to get his attention. Link had experienced this feeling before, most often in situations that were not as they appeared. In situations where something was wrong. Very wrong. That, and when Midna did something unintentionally amusing, or when she chastised him in such a silly way that he couldn't help but grin. Except the feeling in his stomach then wasn't at all unpleasant, but instead more fluttery, as if suddenly his stature had become flimsy and unstable. It always had been a very odd sensation. Mere words could not express how much he missed that feeling, as well as the one who had delivered it to him.

Link struggled to stand, inhaling deeply and meeting the newborn sun's gaze with a solemn, troubled stare. That woman's eyes… so similar to the ones he saw as he bent over his reflection in the limpid pool of water. He wished that once more the spirits of light would appear to him now, and offer him their sagacious advice and guidance. But he knew that wish was one that would not soon be granted. He continued to walk. Why had the woman he had fabricated in his sleep had his same eyes? Why had she called her infant by his name? Link rubbed his temples as he approached the gate to his tiny, friendly village.

He forced himself to dismiss it as a coincidence. All that dream had been was a vivid, well thought-out nightmare. Link forced his mind to sip that explanation down, to chug it like wine until his thoughts were numb enough to accept it as reality.

It had been a dream. And nothing more.


	2. Destiny's Rain

**Chapter 2- Destiny's Rain**

Why so cold? Link wondered, as large heavy raindrops continued to pelt his skin. It made no sense to him. Rain fell from the sky, from where the blazing ball of sun shot rays of scorching heat to warm the earth. The rain seemed to be close to where the flaming sun resided daily. How, then, could rain be so annoying cold while neighboring something so warm?

Link trudged back through the gate of Ordon, overjoyed to be finished with his duty of goat herding for the day. Despite how promising the day had looked earlier when dawn's rosy fingers had stretched out over the horizon to caress the earth, it had been pouring rain practically since sunrise. It seemed as if the liquid drops that fell from the sky were being magnetically pulled down to Ordon, and Link himself in particular. He didn't understand why the sun had even bothered to show its face at all if it was going to hide so quickly behind a blanket of ebony storm clouds.

To be fair, this rain was probably only to compensate for the spectacular weather that had blessed Link's village for the past week or so. But even still, the pale-haired hero wouldn't have minded if Mother Nature had no interest in balancing things out and instead kept supplying him with refreshing, sun-kissed afternoons as opposed to this cranky wet one.

It had been a full three days since Link's bizarre journey into the dream world of war that he wasn't exactly certain he was imaginative enough to create on his own. Since then, everything seemed to have returned to normal. Everything regarding his troublesome sleeping pattern, at least.

Every night, Link would hesitantly crawl into his bed as if fearing the pillow itself might spring up and bite him at any given moment. He would cautiously close his eyes, and reluctantly drift to sleep. Despite his precautions, though, he would inevitably dream of Midna, as always. Then he would rouse himself at daybreak as sunlight slithered in through his window to forcefully rip him from his bittersweet fantasy.

And then the realization that Midna was gone would suddenly crash down upon him, as if a bucket of bitterly cold water had been hovering above him and only flipped over to pour over his head when that comprehension dawned on him. The pain of being away from her would suddenly intensify a thousand fold, and he would leap out of bed and swear to himself, and to all of the household items present to listen to his drowsy pledge that he would pack his belongings, equip his weapons, and gallop away on Epona that very instant to comb the recesses of the world to find his beloved companion.

And then finally, the passion from his dream would die down, he would sigh, and ignore his vow as he did every morning while preparing to go meet his friend Fado for another long day as a ranch hand.

Perhaps 'normal' wouldn't be quite the correct word to describe his sleep routine, granted, but he was accustomed to it and that's just how it was.

Link had finally reached his house, and he climbed the ladder to his door. By now he found the rain to be more refreshing than irritating, so he allowed it to drizzle on him for a little while longer rather than seek shelter under his roof. Not like it would do him much good anyway, since the fabric of his clothes seemed to be knitted out of water from being so sopping wet and his boots made squishing noises whenever he took a step.

For now Link enjoyed how the beads of water mounted on his forehead before marching down his flushed skin with surprising speed. He felt like the raindrops were seeping into his head, washing his mind clean of the worry and troubled thoughts within. Link wasn't particularly fond of the rain, but for some reason at the moment it was giving him serenity rather than agitation.

The storm had been brewing the entire day, but never once did it turn violent. There had not yet been the growling roar of thunder or the luminescent flare of vein-like branches of lightning streaking across the sky in a blue-white flash. It made the rainfall seem mysterious, somehow, as though it was very out of place but still appropriate.

But the blond swordsman was not trying to focus on this. Instead, he allowed the clear drops of water that fell from the chalice of the heavens to scrub away all the confused, gnarled thoughts firmly rooted in his mind, discovering that the rain had a soothing effect that could cure confusion and heartache.

His top and bottom eyelashes met and wove themselves together as he clamped his eyes shut, tilting his head upward. He even opened his cherry-red lips to taste the crisp, wild flavor of the rain that reminded him of cider, sweet yet very spicy. This was the best he had felt in weeks.

He was so much at peace, actually, that his eyes failed to see or even sense the sudden change of color in the sky. It was only when the rain abruptly stopped falling altogether that he opened his eyes in a confused daze.

What he saw made him suck in his breath so fast that it made a sharper whistle than when he played tunes on a blade of grass.

The clouds were no longer bleak and drearily gray with their stomachs swollen with rain. Out of nowhere, clashing pigments of red and gold had trickled into the dull clouds, seeming to almost engulf them. Shimmering black blotches glided across the clouds, pooling into them and adorning them with a chilling contrast.

Link gasped at how strangely familiar these colors were. They were the colors of Twilight. But he had never before seen them alongside the common color of storm clouds. It was almost as though the staining vibrant clouds and the plain ones were battling each other, like two completely different skies were trying to push the other out but instead they ended up blending together, and bled their individual colors as one.

Why was this happening?

Link flew down his ladder, dropping down past more than half of the rungs. His keen vision scanned left and right, not believing that he could be the only one who was noticing this astounding phenomenon. For pity's sake, the entire sky was melting into a different color! Of all the times for Talo or Malo, or Beth or Colin, or Ilia or Rusl to show up, why not now when he truly needed them? Where was everyone?

And then, he heard someone speak. The voice was strange and had an unusual guttural hum to it, and the words spoken seemed hardly audible. Link, however, quickly picked them up and translated them into, "Why is our Twilight turning gray?"

Link absorbed this statement with a fair amount of surprise. So he had been right. This sky was twilight. But the speaker of these words was clearly mistaken. After all, the sky was turning from the typical rainy gray color to the twilight's sort of golden auburn color, not the other way around. He turned to address the owner of the unfamiliar voice, but found that there was no one there.

And even though his trustworthy eyesight proved that he was still alone, he heard yet another voice begin to speak. It had a much loftier tone, but still resounded with an almost indecipherable murmur.

"It's like the color is being sucked out of our sky."

Link tried to call out to the speakers, but to no avail. He received no other response than the piercing trill of the sharply picking up wind in the tall grass. He could hear these people, but he couldn't see them.

And then, for a split second, he couldn't see anything at all.

It was like someone had thrown a hefty velvet curtain over the newly bright yet shadowy sky, enveloping it. It lasted for just a moment, and Link regained his sight once more. But the curtain seemed to have been lifted to reveal an entirely different stage, for he was no longer standing in Ordon.

His feet no more were planted on the plush grass, but on stone as cold as ice and smooth as marble. The lustrous black alabaster of the ground was spread up to numerous columns that supported the several surrounding magnificent structures that could very well be palaces. Rippling waterfalls of ink black mist showered down from atop the enormous citadels, mixed with small orb-like balls of a bright ginger color. Those tiny spheres made the cascading smoke have an odd resemblance to a dark night sky with its jewel-like stars scattered about it.

Link's body had become so feeble with wonder and disbelief that he couldn't even summon the strength to lift his hands and rub his eyes. He had automatically noticed something painfully familiar about the place, but he was given only a glimpse of it before the curtain returned to shroud his vision, perhaps ushering on the next act of the play he seemed to be stuck in.

And then in an instant he was back, standing by his house and looking up at the sky that was still completely muddled up. But this time, he was not actually alone.

His keen eyes detected the slight movement of the being now standing behind him, and he immediately whirled around. And he knew at once that his eyes would have to repent very much later; for honest though they were, they were surely lying. Humiliating though it was for a seasoned warrior like himself to experience such blatant shock, Link couldn't help it- his mouth dropped open with a soft popping sound.

Standing there, clad in a jet black robe with sea-colored skin, coming up only to about Link's waist, was a Twili.

The little man did not seem aware of the dumbfounded person in front of him. The Twili's gaze was set intently on the sky, looking just as stunned and curious and perplexed as Link felt.

"Maybe the heavens are falling down?" interjected a voice beside the green-clad hero, and this time he turned to behold the unnaturally long and lanky Twili who stood to his left and towered over both him and the other miniature creature.

To a degree, they seemed oblivious to the sudden change in their surroundings. If Link's eyes were not deceitful traitors, if they truly were there, then had he really just been in the Twilight world? It was impossible, sure, but the baby blue sky he had known his whole life was glowing a rum-colored copper at the moment, so his definition of impossibility was currently a little bit loose.

As he continued to stare and gape at the two new members of the small field, the silence was finally broken by a new voice Link had not yet heard. It had a unique elegance to it, and while still heavily laden with the uncommon accent of the other two Twili people, it was far more beautiful and majestic. And familiar.

"And I suppose I'm going to have to find a way to fix that?" it purred with levity, but with a gentle edge of sarcasm. "I do about a thousand other things to keep this kingdom up and running, and then the sky breaks on us. Lovely."

Link couldn't stop the burning, swelling feeling in the back of his throat that made every single fiber of his being tingle with a flood of heart wrenching emotions. With as much control as he could muster, he began to tilt his head to the side to look upon the face of the one who possessed that spellbinding voice he could so easily recognize. Her face.

It all happened very quickly.

First, the sky released a loud, moaning sound that seemed to echo about the atmosphere, and then it trembled as the colors began to splash this way and that uncontrollably. Then the two other Twili suddenly flickered as though they were holograms and started to vanish. It was almost like they were made of static. As soon as the sky ruptured, their connection was broken, and they became hazy and continued to fade away.

Link, bearing witness to all this, desperately whipped his head around, not bothering this time to do so slowly. Her face, too, was almost gone. But it was still there. It was nearly tangible. More tangible than he had ever expected to see it again.

It was Midna.

His memory had not done her beauty justice. Even though she was rapidly flickering out of sight, Link's eyes greedily lapped up every detail they could of her stunning, intricate features. He could just barely make out her astonished butterscotch eyes that shimmered so brightly that the sun itself was dulled in comparison, and the expression set upon her breathtaking face. She, too, was staring at Link in utter bewilderment. Her sculpted lips parted as her mouth fell open so wide she most likely could have very easily fit her fist into it. In any other circumstance, it might have been comical. But not then.

"Link," was all she had time to whisper before she disappeared completely. With a furious howl, the wind whisked in a flurry of dancing leaves before it settled at last, and when it died down the sky had returned to its original smoky color.

And then it began to rain again.

Link collapsed to his knees while rain splattered his jade tunic. The storm continued as if nothing had happened. Except the forlorn, fair-haired swordsman then discovered that rain could do absolutely nothing to cure shock.


	3. Forbidden Reunion

**Author's Note: First and foremost, I'd like to thank those who kindly reviewed my story so far. It means a lot to me. I'd like to apologize for taking such a long time to update, but I have a lot of stressful things going on right now, and I hardly have the time to sleep let alone write. A poor excuse, I know, but that's the reason. Anyways, not to worry, I already have the next chapter in progress and it won't usually take me so long to continue. Now, without further adieu, please enjoy the next chapter.**

**Chapter 3- Forbidden Reunion**

It was normally very easy to tell when nightfall had knocked upon the door in the sky, because the lemon-yellow sun would suddenly slip out of view. However, the gloomy rain had already made the heavens so murky that it came without warning, and seemed like the gods who colored the sky were simply shading their canvas with heavier lead instead of sketching a new scene altogether.

Link had once heard a legend that told why the color of night was black. According to it, the fire of the brilliant sun that was ever-present during daytime had ended up being so intense that by dusk, its sweltering fire consumed the innocent blue atmosphere. While being devoured, the cheerful cloudy veil that hung above the world was abruptly reduced to ash.

The guilty, cowardly sun feared punishment for its deed of murdering the sky, so it heaped masks of darkness upon its radiant face and hid out of reach instead of attempting to heal the poor burned victim. The citizens of the earth cried out in anguish for the death of the valiant sky, and protested about not being able to see through the smothering, jet-black pumice.

At this moment, when all hope had been chiseled away and molded into despair, a wise and merciful goddess appeared. She pitied the wounded majesty of the sky and the lamenting creatures below that it had once nurtured with its splendor.

She soared above, and with her creamy long fingers she poked small holes through the blackened soot to reveal the gleam of the sun hiding beneath. After she had made countless holes into the coal-colored curtain above, she curled her delicate yet powerful hand into a fist and punched a large grapefruit-sized hole that expanded into the largest window yet; the moon.

Her labor completed, the glistening goddess departed for the heavens. The people, seeing the twinkle of the newborn stars and the bathing silver glow of the infant moon, rejoiced at their new diamond encrusted sky. The miserable sun overheard their shouts of joy, and summoned up the courage to present itself once more.

Navigating through the thick darkness, it peeled off the layers of night like peeling off a hard scab. It rose forth in its immaculate brightness, blooming like a divine yellow daisy. By revealing itself from its sheath of midnight, the sun inspired so much happiness that the dust of the sky itself was resurrected, and dyed blue once more to reign again with its eternal golden friend.

It had always been one of Link's favorite tales, but at the time the hero couldn't care less about the old story of the phoenix sun, no matter how imaginative it was.

He had no idea how long he had been on his knees by his house, numb and broken, gazing upward with glazed, smoldering eyes. Several times he had ordered his body to move, but his legs refused to comply and instead remained cemented to the ground. By that point, it would have been just as easy to uproot a sturdy, aged oak tree as to budge the swordsman from his shameful position of stooping on the emerald shards of grass.

He guessed he hadn't moved for the last two hours or so, and that estimate proved to be rather accurate. It had been long enough for the rain to finally relent, and cease slapping down on the poor warrior's crestfallen head, and for the milky moon to rise. As always, the nightly orb scowled down at Link, angry at him for having hair so luminous and pale that it was superior in comparison to the moon's own famed glow.

Though he knew the effort would most likely prove to be just a waste of exertion, Link once more attempted to stand. This time, he actually managed to move his limbs enough to put some weight on his left foot, but then he swiftly yanked his leg back to its former pose. The instant his foot had come to rest on the ground, the whole surface of the bottom of his boot seemed to have become coated in pin-like needles. What else could be responsible for the sharp prickling sensation in the balls of his feet and his heels?

Of course, it could always be that his feet had just fallen asleep within the one-hundred and twenty minutes they had been neglected and not put to use, and therefore responded poorly to their rude awakening. But Link decided to settle for the first explanation with the needles, feeling as though the latter, though obviously more logical, failed to express just how unpleasant the pain was.

Gritting his teeth, the blond hero relaxed back into his slouching stance in the grainy dirt, and continued his pathetic strives at trying to make sense of what had taken place to wear his body out to such an extreme degree.

Midna. She had been there. Standing only a few feet from where the green-clad man now knelt.

It was somewhat amusing how she, like always, was the one responsible for giving him trouble. But still, he was baffled. It had been her, he was sure. No doubt about it. And yet for the life of him, Link could not construct one single rational idea to explain how, or why, she had appeared.

And what about the sky? It wasn't everyday that it became like a chameleon and changed colors drastically. The swordsman's poor head felt like a drum that some cruel god took pleasure in beating upon. He just couldn't make any sense of it.

And while he remained on the ground, shallow breaths sliding in and out of his mouth, a sudden flit of light waltzed right by his face. Link straightened his posture in startled surprise, and watched in awe as little shining wisps of pearl-white light began to stream through the nearby trees, coiling around him and ruffling his damp golden hair.

As the dove-like globes continued to bathe him in a mystic glow, curling around the olive green of his garb, a sort of echo seemed to resound around him. It was musical and lingering, and it formed words as if making a piece of art- it used deliberate slowness to achieve perfect beauty.

"O brave youth… come to my spring," the voice trickled, though instead of an actual voice it sounded more like the words were resonated from the air itself in some long forgotten language. "Chosen hero… in my spring there sleeps a princess I'm sure you'll want to see. She who will surely be a precious ally as a climate of evil descends upon Hyrule. Come…to my spring."

Link was on his feet and running before the speech was finished, despite how with each footfall he felt as though he was running on a field of syringes. He didn't care how badly his feet ached. The instant the mysterious voice, who he now guessed belonged to the spirit Ordona, had mentioned a princess he'd want to see, he decided that mere pain was not going to stop him from sprinting at full speed to Ordon spring to see for himself if what had been spoken was true.

Only three days ago, he had wished to receive guidance from the light spirits once again. Now he realized that certain wishes did in fact come true. And now, he was lumbering forward to see if he could find his most prized possession, his beloved companion, in the treasure trove of the spring.

Thankfully, the wind was blowing with him. The blue-eyed swordsman had always been fond of the wind. He always envisioned the wind as a kind young woman who wore a dress of fallen leaves and a veil of rain and mist. She had flowing locks of chestnut hair, fragrant with the smell of flowers, and a sweet song always at her rosy lips. And like a kind supportive mother, she was always nearby to deliver a little push in the direction where Link most needed to go.

He pumped his legs and flew through the woods, approaching the spring. For a fleeting moment, he thought that his heart should be an acrobat, judging by the way it insisted on leaping around within his chest.

Link skidded around the corner of the entrance to Ordona's dwelling place, and saw that the pond was glowing a mystic ashen color. Suddenly his body seemed to get rusty, and he found difficulty in walking to the peaceful lapping water, not knowing what to do or where to look for who he was most hoping to see.

He felt foolish and hasty. And yet, he still felt as though he was missing something. Something right in front of him.

Link stooped over the eerie glowing water and gazed upon the face reflected back at him. It was his own face, of course, but it seemed different and unfamiliar; it looked worn and aged and hopelessly confused. It was not at all the heroic face that would have once beamed back at him, shining with youthful confidence and courage.

And then, he didn't see his face at all, but a new one instead.

Midna's, actually.

The swordsman knew he really shouldn't be surprised at seeing the cruel mirage, the one that had fabricated itself from his wildest imagination, but he was. Surprised, and furious. Had this been all that the wise Ordona had to show him? A silly illusion? Was this just yet another harsh trick played on him by some god or goddess? What did they have against him, anyway?

In anger and shame, he dashed his gloved hand across the surface of the water. He waited, expecting the image of his dear princess to float away on the crests of the evil little waves. But surprisingly, it remained despite the ripples crawling over it, preserved in a pale blue frame. Puzzled, Link ran his hand over the reflection once again.

And to his astonishment, thrill, and horror, the picture of Midna moved her head slightly to the side and sputtered up a string of pallid, frothy bubbles. The small motion seemed to slap the fair-haired warrior across the face. It wasn't an illusion. Midna was literally laying underwater, right in front of him.

Forget acrobat. Link's heart had just become a full-frontal trapeze artist.

He immediately plunged his arms into the water, almost surprised to feel Midna's slender shoulders truly there beneath his grasp, and yanked her limp form from the spring. He was grateful that he was still able to move his body despite the surges of shock coursing through his limbs. He couldn't let himself think about anything. Midna was in trouble. His friend was in danger. That was all that mattered.

Her red topaz hair pooled beneath her and was dripping wet, yet felt as soft as meringue beneath the hero's cold fingers. He held her head on his lap, unsure of what to do. The air around them suddenly seemed to chill as Link began bombarding his mind with questions he could not answer. How did she end up in the spring, of all places? Why was she unconscious? Why wouldn't she open her eyes? How long had she been floating there, just below the surface of the water, cut off from oxygen? A shudder erupted down Link's back.

Was she… could she really be… dead?

The air transformed from cold to arctic. There was no way Link would let her die. He shouted her name, he shook her gently, and he begged her to get up. The green-clad warrior checked for a pulse, and went from concerned and frightened to panic when he couldn't locate one. Still, he refused to accept it.

He refused to believe that after all his long, lonely nights of unanswered wishes and make-believe reunions that she could just be gone for good. He had to get help. He had to run back to the village, but he didn't want to leave Midna alone. There was nothing he could do…

All of a sudden, Midna's eyes snapped open, eyes the color of silky orange honey, enriched with a filling of ripe golden amber. She rolled off of Link's lap, and ended up in a sprawled ball next to his legs. From between her dark lips, she spewed up a fountain of liquid, and began coughing and gasping.

Through his abounding relief and astonishment, Link noticed how strange the water she had been choking on was. It was gooey and black, and bubbled on the ground in a murky puddle as thick as tar. It looked nothing like the healing crystal water within Ordon's spring.

The pale-haired hero hadn't quite absorbed the situation yet. Midna, his dearest ally, his cherished companion, his long-missed friend who he thought he'd never see again was crumpled on her knees next to him hacking up black slime.

True, the amazing situation could have been done in a much fancier setting at a much better time, but beggars can't be choosers.

Midna finally stopped wheezing, and slowly looked up at the swordsman. Who knew that eternity could be packed into a few moments? Their eyes met, and seemed to speak to each other the words that their voices could not.

"Link," said that harmonious voice of hers at last. "It's you. It's really you. I don't believe it," she hummed quietly. They both studied each other for a moment before the Twilight Princess cracked a big, sly smile. "You look a tad bit surprised to see me," she said shakily. "You should see your face right now…" she murmured with a dry chuckle, but a sour laugh from her lips was far lovelier than a rich and hearty laugh from the lips of anyone else as far as Link was concerned.

"You're here… I can't believe it worked. I mean, that creepy zombie voice was telling me to do it, and I don't know why I listened, but… Man, I actually jumped. That was crazy."

Though the shocked swordsman had no idea what she was talking about, he was in no hurry to stop her from speaking in her enchanting language. Her strange explanation was like a recipe, one that was missing spice and salt and several other key ingredients. Link was certain that he would have to hear more to fully understand what she was talking about, just as how those cooking items would have to be added to a dish to make it into an actual meal.

Midna let out a heavy sigh. "I have some explaining to do, I suppose," she stated grimly. "But there's no rush, right? I mean, there are a lot of things I have to tell you, Link, some things I need you to understand. But then again, since I'm kind of running the risk of waking up soon to find that this is just another dream, I guess it's better to get started sooner rather than later."

Link knew where she was coming from. He, too, still hadn't fully embraced the situation. He hadn't quite wrapped his mind around the simple yet complex fact that Midna was with him once more. When he did truly realize this, he guessed he was probably going to sing and dance and leap around in pure joy at being reunited with one of the most precious people in the world to him. Thankfully, his happy frenzy hadn't started yet. To be honest, he was still waiting for the Twilight Princess to poof away in a puff of smoke. After all, it wouldn't be the first time.

But enough of that. His princess was in Hyrule again. That was all he wanted to dwell on.

Link stood, his feet seeming to be miraculously healed, and held out his hand to help Midna to her feet. She looked at his outstretched hand, snickered, and cocked one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows at him with a coy, disdainful smirk.

"Thanks," she began, but then suddenly rolled her body backward so that the palms of her hands were on the ground behind her head, and somersaulted upward and landed with enough grace and agility to make a strong young gazelle envious. "But no thanks. Just because I was choking a few minutes ago doesn't mean I'm handicapped."

Apparently, their two months apart had taken no toll on Midna's ever-present attitude.

"Link, maybe we could get a fire going or something. It's rather chilly, and I think what I need to tell you would make a good campfire story," she muttered wryly.

He nodded eagerly. There was absolutely nothing that Link would like to do more than sit with Midna by a warm, cozy fire to match the warm, cozy feeling expanding within his chest.


End file.
